Mistletoe Mocha
by SynapticFirefly
Summary: The holiday rush just isn't bringing money into the coffee shop. Craig doesn't wonder why. The place kind of sucked anyways. [Christmas gift to kofukune!]


Craig had no love for coffee. The last time he sampled the Tweak family's very own roast blend - sworn to have come from the very mountains themselves - he had been wired for four days straight. His eyes had been bloodshot and wide, his hands trembled, and he could have sworn even the poof ball on his hat stuck up on their own ends.

What's worse was that Tweek's parents literally _fed_ this to him on a daily basis. No wonder the teen was such an utter wreck.

It was Christmas break, but the little kitschy coffee shop had little business today. That meant the Tweak's left their son to man the counter with only Craig to keep him company. Tweek's father had stressed that they update the menu, which meant of course leaving the fate of their shop to their already pressured son. If they expected some kind of world-changing frappuccino that would turn Starbucks over on its head, Craig thought they were way off mark giving the job to Tweek.

Tweek couldn't even muster the concentration to hold a pencil, which meant it was up to his more relaxed 'boyfriend' to take up the notepad.

Craig absently doodled on the corner of the page while Tweek complained and freaked out at the ingredient shelf over the counter. Two hours of brainstorming, (coupled with a lack of customers), brought Tweek to the brink of an utter freak out. To curb this, he took his anxiety out on the industrial blender.

"What have we got so far?!" Tweek whined over his shoulder as he furiously scrubbed at the lid.

With his usual flat drawl, Craig picked up the notepad and recited, "Coffee. Milk. Ice."

"Ack! That can't be all that's there!"

Craig set the notepad down. "That's all you said. Coffee, milk, and ice. This is going to be one bland frappucino."

There he went again. A small, minute flinch ran up Craig's spine when Tweek nearly cut his fingers wiping up the steel blades. "My parents are going to kill me! I need to come up with a flavor! I have to!"

"You might want to chillax a bit," Craig said wisely. Most importantly, he didn't want to see Tweek fuck himself up cleaning the blades a third time. "We should go see the new Star Wars movie."

Tweek almost ripped the dish towel in half. "How do you do it?!"

"Do what?"

"UGH! THAT!" he furiously scrubbed through his already messy hairline. "How can you be so calm about everything?!"

Craig leaned back on the stool, his open gaze inquisitive. "Do you want to be calm?"

The last word hung like a nasty swear word that made the entire air still. Tweek's blue-green eyes darted back and forth like some kind of druggy in a dark alleyway before he approached the counter. You would think he'd shake even more by Craig's dark, smug stare, but it was the opposite. His trembling was barely noticeable now.

"J-just a small one, okay?" Tweek squeaked out.

"Okay."

With the tip of his index finger, Craig gently tilted Tweek's chin up and took in the way the boy's once erratic breathing had already petered out into gentle puffs of air. It took little effort at all to get Tweek to relax, but maybe this was why.

Craig leaned forward and brushed his lips against Tweek's lightly chapped ones, savoring that rare moment of stillness from the blond. It was like witnessing a unicorn for the first time.

Well, for anyone else it would have been the first time. This is probably his eighth or ninth sighting.

Just when Tweek sighed happily enough for Craig to deepen the kiss, the tiny bell above the shop door jingled, and the most annoying voice in all of South Park decided to break the pleasant stillness.

"Oh, hoho! Coffee AND a show!" Just as they pulled away, Eric Cartman held a palm up. "Oh no! Don't stop on my account! Unless you're going to do it on the counter. Just gonna say - that's kind of bad for business."

Kyle wordlessly slipped past the door Cartman propped up and smiled at Tweek. "Hey dude, I've got the papers your dad wanted." He looked around the empty coffee house. "Hm. You don't play music in here?"

Tweek jolted so fast from Craig's grip, he nearly careened into the ingredients shelf. "N-NO!"

Craig was easier to recover. "That's an odd thing to say, Broflovski."

"You wouldn't understand shit about businesses, Craig," Cartman drawled, his electric blue eyes glittering. "See, the Starbucks around the corner is playing festive music. Maybe that's why your place is looking deader than Santa on the 26th."

"Yeah, you're the one talk about successful businesses," Craig replied shortly. "So how's that Spotify start up going?"

Cartman's mouth twisted into a sneer. "It wasn't Spotify, asshole! They weren't the same thing!"

Kyle sighed and quickly handed off the papers to Tweek before Craig and Cartman started shouting each other down. "Sorry, dude. I'll get him out of your hair."

"Y-you don't want to s-stay for some c-coffee?!" Tweek shuddered and tried valiantly not to drop any loose pages.

Cartman 'helpfully' wiggled his venti frap for all to see. "We went to Starbucks. It's so freakin' sweet! This shit tastes like gingerbread cookies!"

"You really didn't need the venti," Kyle remarked dryly and sheepishly tucked his own frap away for Tweek's sake.

Craig curiously took note of the folder in Tweek's trembling fingers. "What's all that about?"

"Tax stuff," Kyle shrugged. "Dad's trying to help with the store's taxes. Doesn't look too good this year though, Tweek."

Cartman picked up their coffee sparknotes and examined it with a haughty snort. "Nice brainstorm you've got here." He laughed when Craig snatched it from his hand. "Oh sorry, Craig. I didn't know 'ice' and 'coffee' were secret ingredients! Better not let Starbucks know!"

"Don't be an asshole," Kyle warned, but even his sharp glare couldn't hold water when Cartman was flashing such a charming grin at him. "But he's got a point. A bit of Christmas music might help keep the hipsters inside at least."

"Fucking hipsters. Just new aged hippies," Cartman grumbled under his breath, then as if an idea struck him, stuck the bottom of his venti on top of Tweek's messy blond hair. "Hehehe~! Check it out, Kahl! If I put my drink on Tweek's head, his shaking mixes it!"

"Knock it off, Cartman," Kyle warned, suppressing a grin.

Cartman reluctantly took his drink off. "Hey, I just had a kickass idea! You should make a drink after me."

"Why?" Craig drawled.

"Case and point: Kyle loves slurping me up. Like, he can't get enough of it. Tell them, Kahhhhl~!"

Craig had never seen Kyle's cheeks match his hair like that before. A thrum of amusement ran up his chest when Kyle grabbed Cartman by the scarf and pulled him down to his level.

That Jersey temper flaring up, whatever Kyle was going to say died on his lips when Craig suddenly announced, "There's not enough lard in the world to make a drink with your name on it."

Kyle doubled over and laughed.

"Fuck off, Craig! You hamster-loving piece of shit!" Cartman snarled.

"I like _guinea pigs_ , Cartman." Craig had enough of the extra company. "If you guys aren't buying anything, you better go."

"I'm sorry," Cartman began with vicious sarcasm, "Do you own this shop, Craig? Funny, I don't see your name on the door. Hey - hey! Hands off the merchandise, Craig!"

Tweek whined when Craig grabbed a fistful of Cartman's jacket intending on helping him out through the door, but Cartman's next words caused him to still.

"You know, just because your relationship is a lie doesn't mean you have to take it out on us."

"Cartman…" Kyle warned again.

"No, no. Don't try to defend them, Kyle," he said serenely. "It's really an unfortunate circumstance. I mean, why wouldn't it be? They didn't choose each other like _we_ did. The _Japanese_ did, didn't they? Sooo romantic!"

Tweek bounced on heels. "W-w-what is he talking about, Kyle?!"

"Whatever it is, he needs to shut the fuck up," Craig said darkly. "Or I'll _make_ him shut up."

Kyle sighed and tried to pry Craig off of Cartman. The last thing they needed was a physical altercation in an already failing business. "I was hoping we'd break the news a little nicer." He shot a glare in Cartman's direction. "The girls… well, you should be in the clear now. Ever since Kenny's been causing drama from one relationship to the next, they've been fixated on him more than you guys. So, um… this thing you have? You can let it go."

"Yeah, the town won't go tits up if you broke up," Cartman unnecessarily added with a sneer. "They don't care anymore."

"Now look, you guys have been going out since you were ten. You don't have to break up," Kyle reassured them. "It just seems like you're sticking together for the sake of the town. You don't have to do it anymore. That's all."

"That's really none of your business," Craig shot back and looked to Tweek for back up. To his surprise, he was unnaturally still - and almost _relieved_. "Tweek?"

You could cut the atmosphere with a butter knife. Cartman wisely leaned over Kyle and whispered, "Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise, babe. Let's split before the soap opera starts."

Kyle was ready to protest against it, since it was Cartman's fault this shit started to begin with, but decided he may have a point. "Yeah," he agreed slowly. Sparing them one last pitied look, he steered Cartman by the arm out the door, the bell jingling happily at their departure.

The silence pressed on for a moment because Craig really had nothing to say. All he could do was deflect and maybe change the subject.

"So. Starbucks has gingerbread shit. We can start from there. Maybe mint chocolate?"

Tweek frowned at the ingredients list. "The… the girls don't ship us anymore."

"So what?" Craig challenged with a roll of his eyes. "I really don't think we should take relationship advice from those two. Not exactly the healthiest relationship in South Park…"

"And you think _our_ relationship is any better? A bunch of Japanese girls decided we should date! At least they chose to date on their own!"

Tweek was fidgeting, the kind that that Craig recognized as the beginning of his hysteria. If he didn't do something now, the boy was going to chug down a half gallon of pure black coffee and go stark raving mad.

"You can't compare us to them!" he replied sternly.

Tweek started to pace. Not good. "Yes I can! Don't you remember what Kyle did when the girls tried to pair him up with Stan? He turned around and kissed Cartman in front of everyone!"

"Thanks, Tweek. I _really_ wanted to remember that scene," Craig drawled with disgust. "You need to calm down, dude. Seriously."

Tweek grabbed at his blond hair and pulled. "Ack! I can't! Our whole relationship is a lie! You can go and date girls now! Maybe it's for the best! Maybe it isn't! GAH! I CAN'T HANDLE IT! I CAN'T HANDLE THE FRAPS OR LOSING YOU OR-!"

His rambling turned static in Craig's ears. What _would_ make their relationship stick if not for the girls? Their mutual interests were wildly different - hell, they were complete polar opposites. They were in the clear. They could break up and go on their merry ways.

But he couldn't help but remember the look Kyle shot at him before they left the shop. It was like he was trying to tell him something or maybe he didn't. Maybe he was looking into this too deeply.

All he could do was shoot forward and collect the jibbering blond into his arms to wait out the waves of hysteria going through Tweek's system. There wasn't much in his embrace - no rubs or snuggles like one would find in a romantic movie - in actuality, it was actually a pretty bland hug.

But for some reason, it was enough. Tweek's trembling started to ebb away the longer they stayed like this. "S-sorry!" he hissed out in defeat. "I'm such a mess!"

"You're fine." That was when it hit him. The look on Kyle's face, the rude slur of Cartman's words… maybe he was looking far too into this but still. An epiphany was an epiphany. "So… Eric Cartman and Kyle Broflovski are a thing."

Tweek raised his chin up a fraction, those wired out eyes darting back and forth with apprehension. For his sake, Craig continued. "And if that's the norm in this town, I don't see why what we've got now is any less real than theirs. I mean, it's _Cartman and Broflovski_. Those guys are fucked up."

Craig could feel Tweek's fingers shake and twitch against his jacket again. He wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not, but his growing anxiety dashed itself away when Tweek raised himself on tiptoes to kiss him. Craig's eyes widened.

Tweek had never taken the initiative with romantic contact. They had been dating since they were ten, but while everyone else had graduated to varying levels of sexual contact, it was only recently they decided to try something as simple as kissing. Sometimes Craig just wasn't sure if it was possible to move forward with their relationship this way, still confused himself over whether or not he liked girls or guys or both or what the hell ever.

This wasn't one of those times. His eyes slowly slid shut at the soft sound coming from Tweek's throat - it wasn't a screech or a whine - but a gentle hum of content. Craig's stomach fluttered and that was enough. They were enough.

When Tweek pulled away, Craig's eyes were still shut. "Uhh… you okay, d-dude?"

Craig slowly opened his eyes. "Hm?"

"D-did I do it wrong?" He was starting to tremble again. Craig immediately grabbed Tweek's upper arms and kissed him again with a little more pressure to get his answer across.

As they parted, Craig rubbed his thumbs along the fabric of Tweek's sweater reassuringly. "They're right," he realized.

Tweek's expression fell. "T-they were…?"

"Yeah. This place is shit without any music." Pulling out his phone, he opened up the music streaming app and turned up the volume before setting it on the counter. Classy Christmas music came trickling in. With a gentle brush of his lips against Tweek's now calm forehead, he returned to his seat and spun the pencil between his fingers.

"W-what are you doing?"

"I'm helping my boyfriend out with his frap problem," Craig said simply. "What are _you_ doing?"

Dawning on him, Tweek's eyes widened and the puzzled expression gave way to relief. A small smile tugged on his lips. "I'm… going to see if we have mint chocolate b-because… because my boyfriend suggested it."

Craig nodded. "You do that."

When Tweek bustled his way into the back of the shop, he didn't notice the slight quirk of Craig's lips as he refocused on the frap list, nor the way his dark eyes practically glittered with content.


End file.
